


Across the Courtyard

by thatwriterlady



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Attraction, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Bisexuality, Castiel Has a Crush on Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Has a Crush on Castiel, Flirting, Guitarist Castiel (Supernatural), Guitarist Dean Winchester, M/M, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Music, Musician Castiel (Supernatural), Openly Gay Castiel (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:54:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23679487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatwriterlady/pseuds/thatwriterlady
Summary: Dean lives in an apartment complex that has more than a hundred units, and some of the nicest people you could ever meet as his neighbors. When a man moves into the unit directly across the courtyard from him he thinks nothing of saying hello. He had no idea that one little greeting could have such an impact on his life.Castiel makes music and upon hearing Dean play he knows he wants him to sing his latest creation. It's a once in a lifetime opportunity for Dean, but what about their attraction to one another? It's a tricky path they must walk down as they decide whether to keep things platonic. Only the music will tell...
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 19
Kudos: 142





	Across the Courtyard

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, I know I've been MIA for too long now. I'm exhausted and have dozed off twice now just trying to write this. Make that 3 times. When I'm more coherent I'll talk about why I've been gone. Just know that I'm ok. Catch you all later.

Dean walked in the front door of his apartment and with a stifled yawn hung his jacket on the nearest coat hook. He scratched at his chest until he realized his fingernails were gross and he was leaving grease stains on his shirt. After unlacing his boots and pulling them off he shuffled into the kitchen and grabbed his finger brush and the orange cleaner he used to get the grease off his hands and out from under his nails. It took about twenty minutes of effort but when he was finished his hands were pink and grease-free, though they hurt a bit from the effort. Figuring that since he was already at the sink he should wash his breakfast dishes, he got started on that. 

After dishes were done and he’d taken a hot shower he threw on a pair of sweatpants and made his way back to the living room. Movement past his balcony sliding doors caught his attention and he looked up to see a man in the apartment across the courtyard from his own hanging a rug over the balcony railing. To his knowledge, no one lived in that apartment and with his curiosity running high he opened the sliding doors and stepped out onto his balcony.

“Hi,” He called out. The man looked around for a moment before realizing the voice was coming from across the courtyard. Being four stories up, the sound tended to echo and it clearly took him a moment to pinpoint the direction the greeting was coming from.

“Hello,” The man called back.

“You just move in?” Dean leaned on the railing, draping his arms casually over the edge.

“Yes, about a week before the quarantine started.”

“You like it so far?” Dean was bored, and maybe a little lonely. He couldn’t even have his brother over, not with this stupid quarantine. Sam was a doctor and had the virus currently. The other man shrugged and turned to face him fully. He leaned a hand on the railing and looked down at the courtyard below. Normally there were kids playing; young ones playing tag or hopscotch, teenagers playing basketball, or maybe making out under the cover of the multiple walkways, imagining that no one could see them when in fact everyone could. Because of the quarantine it was completely empty.

“Is it this quiet all the time?”

“Up here, pretty much. Sometimes you’ll hear the kids echo or hear the sound of a basketball slapping on the pavement but if you want that sound blocked out just close the sliding doors. If I want a window open I’ll open the living room ones, they open up on the street.”

The man nodded in understanding and looked up at him again. He took in Dean’s half-dressed form since he’d foregone a shirt after his shower. “Are you considered one of the essential workers?”

“I am,” Dean nodded. “I own an auto shop here in town.”

“Getting a lot of business?”

“Yes, actually. It’s surprising really,” Dean replied. “With the layoffs and people in quarantine I expected business to suffer, but it’s really not. I won a bid for a contract on government vehicles a few months ago so that’s mostly what we’re working on. What about you?”

The man sighed heavily and shook his head. “No, I’m a musician. There’s no need for a musician right now, not with all venues closed. I’m still working on my stuff though, that never really stops.”

“A musician? What are you doing moving into a place like this?” Dean winced as soon as the words were out of his mouth. He had no business asking about this man’s personal life. He only chuckled though.

“I just got divorced. We’ve been separated four years now but the divorce finally went through. After lawyer fees, this is what I could afford. It’s not so bad though. I have two bedrooms and I turned the second room into my studio. I can work on my music without being told to shut up. I put up sound dampening walls and covered the floor and ceiling too with the landlord’s permission. I had to prove to him first that I wouldn’t bother the neighbors before he’d let me actually work on my music here. I can’t spend hours at my studio right now, so I spend it in my home studio.”

“That’s pretty cool, actually,” Now Dean was curious. “I’m Dean, by the way.”

“Castiel,” The man motioned towards himself. “Most call me Cas though.”

“Nice to meet you, Cas. What kind of music do you do? Anything on Youtube or the radio?” 

“Yes and yes. I have two songs on the radio currently, though I have others singing them.”

“Like that Avicci guy or something?” 

Cas chuckled. “Yes, exactly. It’s my music and lyrics, I just have other people singing the songs. And yes, I have a YouTube channel, it’s fairly successful,” Cas replied. “And I mostly do pop because that’s what really brings in the money, but I also do old school alternative and hard rock. “

Dean was interested even more. Hard rock? That was right up his alley. He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Give me the name of your channel.”

After they said goodbye and Dean went inside, he fetched a shirt now that he was chilly and curled up on the couch to check out Cas’ channel. The man looked attractive from across the courtyard but seeing him on camera, talking about music and playing a variety of different instruments he could see just how attractive he really was. He played more than he sang and Dean was impressed to see just how many artists had sung the lyrics to his music. He had his own YouTube channel but it was pathetic in comparison. Where Cas had more than two hundred million subscribers, he had about two thousand. His was just him covering rock songs on his guitar which was really nothing spectacular. Still, he subscribed to Cas’ channel and looked forward to hearing what the man created next.

@@@@@@@@@@@

Work was taking its toll on him. His back ached, his neck was stiff and he’d torn three shirts just this week. He’d been annoyed when he had to order more. He never thought he’d actually miss grocery shopping but being cooped up in his apartment when he wasn’t at work and having to order every supply, even his clothing was becoming annoying. Sam had told him to avoid having any fast food delivered but damn it, he wanted egg rolls and the frozen ones he’d bought and had shipped from Target tasted like ass. So he’d ordered Chinese. He felt bad that innocent people here were being shunned out of ignorance and racism for something that started overseas and had nothing whatsoever to do with them. The food was purchased and prepared here but ask the average ignorant white person and they would say they didn’t want to “catch the virus” if they ordered Chinese food. So screw it, Dean gave his business to his favorite place at least once a week and in return, they threw in extra egg rolls. Every. Single. Time. Yeah, he considered himself a lucky bastard.

On a Saturday afternoon when the weather was warmer than usual he grabbed his guitar and stepped out onto his balcony. Truthfully, he’d sort of forgotten about Cas. He hadn’t seen him in three weeks and with his workload as heavy as it was that was all he’d really been focusing on. Today though he had three employees working so he took a day for himself. He’d cleaned the apartment when he’d woken up but since he was already a very organized person it hadn’t taken long at all. Jim Morrison had been bouncing around in his head all morning but as soon as he grabbed his guitar, the Beatles replaced him. Interesting.

He had set out his meager patio furniture the week before. That consisted of a small table and two chairs. He’d bought new cushions for them so at least his butt and back were comfortable as he settled into one and started strumming the guitar. Lately, he’d been thinking of his mother and it hadn’t surprised him when the Beatles had come to the forefront of his mind when he’d decided he wanted to play. Usually, his neighbors would open their windows or sliding doors to listen when he came outside like this and after only a few notes he saw three windows open and the woman in the apartment next door came out onto her balcony with her little, fuzzy Shih Tzu, Mario. It never ceased to amuse him that a hairy dog that wore a bow to keep its long locks off his smooshed face and out of his eyes was named Mario, and all because she liked Mario Brothers. She was sixty-nine but had fond memories of playing with her boys when they were growing up. He wondered if, had his mother lived past his fourth year of life, would she have had such fond memories? He liked to think so. He nodded to Danielle and began to sing Hey Jude, the song his mother would soothe him with when he was little and had a nightmare. 

By the time he was finished at least ten windows were open and he could see people watching him. He smiled and nodded to everyone before starting on Strawberry Fields. From there he left the Beatles and moved into classic rock, and not the kind the Beatles sang in their later years. Black Dog was followed acoustically with Wonderwall (because why not? He had time to kill) before returning to singing Travelling Riverside Blues. He sang Simple Man a little louder as he let the music flow through him and when he started on Sounds of Someday, he heard another guitar join in. His eyes had been closed as he felt the music as much as he heard it but hearing someone else playing with him, they snapped open. He didn’t have to look far to see who had the other instrument. 

Cas was sitting directly across from him on what looked like a kitchen chair he’d dragged outside and when their eyes met he smiled. Dean smiled back and sang a little louder. Cas wasn’t singing, simply accompanying him acoustically. When he moved over to Tennessee Whiskey Cas joined in seamlessly, clearly knowing the notes as well as he did. More and more people were watching now, throwing out suggestions whenever his fingers would start to slow and he was unsure what to play next. It ended with him sitting there for two hours, just playing a variety of songs, feeling the music flow through him and out his fingertips as he strummed the guitar. His voice and his looks were what seemed to draw women to his YouTube channel but the men mostly watched his videos because he played music they liked. Looking around at his neighbors he could see just how many of them were as bored as he was, trapped at home with nothing really to do except watch movies or cruise the internet. Hearing an impromptu concert was interesting and a pleasant distraction. It wasn’t like he hadn’t sat here just like this and played most Saturday or Sunday afternoons during warm weather for the last four years, but this was the first time so many people were home to hear him.

When he finally set the guitar down and flexed his fingers, Cas did the same.

“You’re really good, and your voice? Wow!” Cas exclaimed. Dean chuckled and blushed softly, glad the man wasn’t close enough to see how his words made his face flush.

“Thanks. It was cool that you knew all the songs,”

“I have a very large repertoire up here,” Cas tapped his temple. “I love music. Seems you do too. You didn’t mention that you played when we talked the first time.”

“I didn’t feel it was important. I was interested in your music, not in pitching my own,” Dean set the guitar aside and listened to someone in one of the units across from his and further down start playing the piano. Now he was going to get to enjoy the music he wasn’t playing. Classical was cool and he liked Mozart, which they were currently playing.

“So you play then?” Cas asked. “More than on your balcony?”

“I mean, sometimes,” Dean shrugged. “Mostly at The Roadhouse, my dad’s friend owns it.”

“Do you have a YouTube channel?”

“Yeah, do you?” Someone else called out. Dean blushed further.

“Uh, yeah, I do, actually.” He gave the address out and could see Cas had his phone and was pulling his channel up on the app. 

“Wow, I’m very impressed. Your voice is so smooth and beautiful. Mine is ok, but it’s not this smooth,” Cas commented. “I subscribed. It looks like you upload a video every few weeks, is that still true?”

“Maybe a bit more with this quarantine. I can only play so many video games and work so much before I feel like I’m losing my mind,” Dean admitted. “Music is freeing. I can listen to it but I can recreate it with my own hands, sing it with my own voice. I like doing that. It makes me feel closer to the people that originally created whatever I am playing.”

Cas was looking at him with awe. “I like that. It’s how I feel when I play something another artist has created. It’s almost like an homage to them. When it’s something I’ve created I feel incredibly honored when someone else sings it or plays it. I feel like I’ve contributed something artistic and it makes me want to create more.”

“Do you ever play live?” Dean asked. Cas nodded.

“Not so much. I’m a creator, I don’t pretend that I have a singing voice even half as good as yours. I’ve played at a few different venues but then they want me to put on big shows, like Marshmallow does. That’s not my style. I prefer to be behind the scene.”

“Yeah,” Dean sighed. “I’d like to play publically again but that’s not happening for a long while. Have you had the virus? My brother is a doctor and he’s currently quarantined with it. I haven’t seen him in over a month, not since about two weeks before he started showing symptoms. He’s who I usually hang out with. My best friend moved away but we talk via video chat. It’s not the same though.”

“I haven’t had it,” Cas replied. “I’m sorry about your brother. Is he doing ok?”

“Yes. He’s young and healthy so it’s not knocking him down as much as it is some people. As soon as he’s cleared he’ll be right back at the hospital, working his butt off.”

“My sister is an elementary school teacher. She said that before the schools were closed at least a third of the kids were showing symptoms. She isn’t sure if all of them actually have it. It’s the start of allergy season so it’s hard to tell the difference right away between allergy sniffles and flu sniffles. Personally I’m hoping they all just have allergies. It’s wishful thinking though,” Cas sighed. 

“I know what you mean.” Dean looked over when Mario barked and saw the dog looking down at the courtyard. A man was crossing it, a cloth held to his mouth as he coughed hard into it. He stiffened as he watched the man disappear into the corridor that led around to the front of the apartments on Cas’ side. Everyone still on their balconies or looking out their windows had all quieted as they watched him.

“Do you think he has it?” Danielle asked.

“The way he was coughing?” Dean frowned. “Yes, I do. Don’t open your door for anyone, ok? Just to be safe.”

“I’m having my groceries left at my door,” She said. “And I have gloves and masks with filters that my son found for me and mailed here. Ronnie is in Copenhagen doing geological studies.” There was pride in her voice but she was very proud of both her sons. He smiled and nodded.

“That’s good. Copenhagen is pretty safe I think.”

“Who was that guy?” Cas asked.

“I’m not entirely sure. I think he lives on the second floor on your side, but over near the south end. If it’s who I think it is, that’s Zeke. He’s unpleasant even when he’s well. He’s very rude and condescending. He has implied on several occasions that I am uneducated and stupid because I work with my hands. I make a point of not talking to him now.”

“What exactly do you do?” 

“I’m a mechanic, I own an auto shop in town.” Dean was pretty sure he’d told Cas this already. Or maybe he hadn’t? He couldn’t quite remember. Cas snapped his fingers and pointed his way.

“Yes! You did tell me that! Sorry, the days are sort of bleeding together and I forget things when I get into my creative headspace. But I do remember that. Being a mechanic does not make you stupid. Passing judgment on people you know nothing about? That does.”

“Preach it,” Danielle waved her hands in the air and nodded. It made them both grin. Dean liked his neighbor. She was incredibly sweet and liked to invite him over for pie and coffee from time to time. Mario knew him by sight and scent and would wag his tail excitedly when he saw him. If he went over to Danielle’s the dog insisted on sitting in his lap for pets. Mario was cute, even if he looked like a little black and white Ewok. Maybe that was why he thought the dog was cute in the first place.

“Do you have any social media accounts?” Cas asked him. Dean gave him his Instagram, something his brother’s girlfriend had set up for him. At first, she’d been the one to upload snippets of him playing on there but he’d figured it out himself pretty quickly. Now he put them up and she heart reacted all of them. His phone buzzed with a notification and when he pulled it out he could see he had four for Instagram. Apparently Cas wasn’t the only one of his neighbors that heard and decided to follow him. Hey, it was exposure. Exposure was good. This wasn’t his personal one anyway, it was strictly for his music. He followed Cas back. It was easy to discern which account was his, he could see the profile pic was of him looking down at his guitar as he played. Very artistic and professional-looking. Dean’s picture was a slice of apple pie. He thought maybe he should update that.

“Wow, you’re amazing,” Cas remarked as he scrolled through Dean’s posts. A little while later his phone buzzed again and he saw that Cas was now following him on Twitter too. He followed him back on there as well. Cas had a pretty big following on all of his social media accounts and it sort of felt like he had a celebrity suddenly noticing him. Was Cas a celebrity? He scrolled through the man’s Twitter. Cas was verified and had more than a million followers. He had big name music producers commenting on his tweets like they were old friends and even a few celebrities were liking his tweets and leaving comments. It left him a little awestruck. Yep, Cas was famous as far as he was concerned.

“I’m ok,” He shrugged. “I just like to strum on my guitar and sing whatever song comes to mind.”

“He’s fantastic,” Danielle interjected. “He sings like an angel. He plays songs I ask him to perform for me. I feel very lucky that he does.”

He blushed at her compliment. She was so nice to him and asked so sweetly that he wanted to do it for her. The fact that she liked his voice and his guitar playing made him happy.

“I’d have to agree,” Cas said to her. “I’m looking through his Instagram and there are some videos on here of him performing live. He’s fantastic.”

He was talking with Danielle like Dean wasn’t there, except he knew he was. He’d winked at him more than once as he listened to Danielle gushing.

“I know! I follow him on Instagram and Twitter. On YouTube too. He’s so gifted. He can sing like an angel and fix the brakes on my car, all in one afternoon!”

Dean laughed delightedly and smiled at her. “Are your brakes going again? You should let me take a look at them.”

“They’re ok for now. I have the schedule you made me for the different repairs. I’m due for an oil change soon but I’m not leaving the house for anything other than to walk Mario so I suppose that can wait.”

“Yeah, I guess,” He conceded. “But as soon as this quarantine is lifted I’m doing it.

“Bless you,” She told him. “You’re too good to me.”

He looked at Danielle in a motherly capacity. She was so sweet and kind to him that he wanted to be like that in return. 

“Maybe you’ll let me walk Mario sometimes so I can get out of the house too,”

“I have a cat,” Cas said. “I’d be dragging him down the street if I tried to walk him, but it might be worth it to get out and stretch my legs.”

Dean chuckled at the image. He saw the cat settled at Cas’ feet in a little bed. It was hard to tell from this distance but he thought it might be a smokey gray in color. That reminded him of the song Smoke on the Water, which he began playing before he’d even realized he had the guitar back in his hands. This time Cas just sat and listened.

“You should come and sing for me,” He said when Dean set the guitar down again.

“Sing for you?” Dean asked, confused by the request.

“Yes. I’d love to hear you sing something I created. Your voice is so smooth and sexy, my listeners would love it.”

Dean blushed harder and ducked his head. Cas had just said his voice was sexy. Sexy. Was that music talk? Or was it something more?

“He’s sexy too, don’t let him tell you otherwise. Ladies and men alike flock to him when he performs at The Roadhouse. I go to support him and have a glass of wine somewhere that isn’t here, so I don’t look like a wino, and when he performs they just seem to come out of the woodwork. They flock to the stage to listen to him. Ellen, she owns the place, is thrilled with how much she makes on those nights just in cover charges. She puts up posters before he performs there to drum up more business.” Danielle snickered at Dean’s embarrassment. “Face it, handsome, you’re eye candy.”

“Please,” He snorted and rolled his eyes. It was true though. Since he was a kid he’d always been told how pretty he was, or how handsome. He’d been popular in high school as a result. That and his charisma. He could charm the girls and even some of the boys.

“I have to agree,” Cas winked at him again when he looked up at him. “But that’s not why I’d like him to perform something I wrote. It’s because his voice is so amazing. His looks certainly don’t hurt though. Sorry if I am embarrassing you. I’m gay, so if that bothers you, just let me know.”

Dean felt his chest thud hard in his chest as his stomach exploded with butterflies. Cas was...flirting? Hell yeah!

“I am not embarrassed or bothered in the slightest. I think it would be fun, but you’d have to give me time to learn the music and get used to the words. Singing something that has been around for forty years is one thing but something new that I’ve never heard before? That’s something different.”

Cas smiled wider and nodded. “I’ll DM you on Twitter as I see that yours are open. You can send me your email and I’ll send you what I’m thinking of having you sing.”

“Ok,” Dean was excited by the prospect of getting to sing something by someone famous. He didn’t think anything big would come of it but he could brag to Sam and Eileen and it would look really cool on his Instagram and YouTube channel. His friends would be excited for him, Charlie especially. “Send it over.”

Cas didn’t hesitate. Even as he lounged on his balcony he was direct messaging him on Twitter. It was an audio file so Dean downloaded it with the intention of listening to it later. It would take some practice to get it right. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity and he didn’t want to screw it up.

“I want to hear that when it’s finished!” Danielle announced.

“I’ll make sure you get a copy,” Cas promised her.

Dean felt warm and happy, He had the attention of a hot, popular musician and a few more followers on his social media accounts. At least he was getting something good out of this quarantine.

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

One of the things Cas had DM’d him in addition to the audio file was his number. It wasn’t the first time someone had DM’d their number to him but it was the first time he wanted to respond. He decided to text Cas after he listened to the audio file but Cas apparently wasn’t waiting. He DM’d him twice more, practically begging him to text him, so he sent his own number. He figured if he wanted to text so bad, he’d let him make the first move. Almost immediately he received a text message.

Unknown Number: Hey, hopefully, you have my number saved already on your phone. I have yours saved.

Dean saved Cas’ number in his phone and then texted him back.

Dean: It’s definitely saved. I am going to download the audio file now. I think it’s cool that you’re including me in your music. I hope I live up to your expectations.

He looked up at Cas and saw the man wink at him again. Usually, he was the one flirting like that. A wink, a flirty smile, it meant his bed was not empty unless he wanted it to be. In the last few years though, he was leaning more towards keeping it empty. Mindless sex with people he didn’t care about didn’t hold the same appeal it used to. No doubt if he responded in kind he could have Cas in his bed, probably that night if he wanted it, quarantine be damned, but despite Cas’ good looks, he wasn’t looking for something more with someone he didn’t know. Besides, he wasn’t sure Cas wanted more than this business venture.

They texted back and forth for a bit, discussing the track Cas had sent and what he was thinking for it. He hoped Dean would take some liberties with it and give it his own bit of flavor. Being that the weather was so nice and this was his first real day off he wasn’t quite ready to head inside to sit in front of his computer. Instead, he picked his guitar up again and began the opening chords to Sister Christian. Cas lit up and hurried to grab his own guitar and join in. Whoever was playing the piano stopped for a second before they joined in too. This. This right here was why, after living here as long as he had and easily having made enough to afford his own home, he continued to stay. The people here were good and he loved living here. Quarantine wasn’t so bad when he wasn’t perpetually bored. 

@@@@@@@@@@@@

He wasn’t sure if Cas was bored, if he was just really talkative, if he was that invested in the song he wanted Dean to sing, or if he was interested in him. It was confusing and it made his head spin. He chalked it up to the novelty of a new person, the quarantine, and the need to keep working, even if it was from home. Then the texts stopped. 

For a whole twenty-four hours Dean heard nothing. The lights were off in Cas’ apartment, at least in the living room and kitchen which were the only lights he could see so he decided to text him first. A half-hour later he got a response that sent shivers down his spine.

Cas: Don’t feel so hot. I have a fever and I hurt all over. I can’t bring myself to get out of bed. I think I have this thing.

Dean: How? You’ve been staying at home! 

Cas: I’ve had my agent and producer stop by multiple times. I don’t know if one of them had it or how many times the papers and discs they were dropping off were handled before they got to me. I’m ordering my groceries too. I’m home but I’m still coming in contact with people. Someone was sick. I just don’t know who.

Dean nibbled at his lower lip as he wondered if there was something he could do. He could cook, that was something he was good at, so he got started on a pot of chicken noodle soup. When it was finished he texted him.

Dean: You conscious?

Cas answered pretty quickly. So at least he was awake.

Cas: Not by choice. I’m freezing!

Dean: Do you have a heating pad? Or an electric blanket?

Cas: No to both. Left them with ex. Most of what I have is new because I wanted a clean slate. New home, new stuff, new me. Wish I had them though. I’m under four blankets and I can’t get warm.

Dean: I’m not sick, not showing symptoms, and even if I was, I can’t get someone that’s already sick any sicker. So I’m going to leave a care package outside your front door. You need to get up and go get it though. I’ll knock when I get there so you can come to get it. Use all of it. ALL OF IT. I’m on my way now. Give me your unit number.

Cas tried to argue but he told him to shut up and just give him his unit number. After he had filled a reusable bag with a huge container of fresh, homemade soup, a bottle of Tylenol, a bottle of DM cough syrup, and put his electric throw blanket in another bag, he put on a mask and gloves and left. It was faster to go down to the courtyard, cross it, and take the elevator up to the fourth floor on Cas’ side than it was to try to go around from the front. There wasn’t a way to walk it, the building wasn’t designed that way. Once he reached the fourth floor on Cas’ side he found the apartment easily. He rapped hard on the door and set everything on the floor in front of it. He waited until he heard shuffling and then retreated to the elevator. He was already in it and on his way down to the main floor by the time the door opened and Cas stuck his head out.

As he was walking in his own front door his phone buzzed with a text. He pulled his phone out and smiled when he saw it was from Cas.

Cas: Come to the balcony.

Curious, he stripped his gloves off and wiped down his doorknob with a disinfectant wipe and closed the door before heading to the sliding ones. He stepped out onto the balcony and saw Cas standing just inside his doors with the container of soup and a spoon. The electric blanket was wrapped around his shoulders. Dean’s phone buzzed so after wiping it off, he opened the message.

Cas: Thank you. You didn’t have to do this.

Dean: I know. I wanted to. Feel better soon.

Cas gave a little wave with his spoon before shuffling off. Dean hoped it was enough to get him on the road to feeling better.

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

It was another week before Cas stopped feeling like he was dying and another week after that before he could get up from bed and stay up. The fever was broken but the cough was a nightmare. He ended up using the entire bottle of cough syrup Dean had given him, and then contacting his doctor to get a prescription so it could be delivered. He got back to work and fourteen weeks later the quarantine was finally lifted. It was early summer and most evenings he could hear Dean on his balcony with his guitar, strumming away and singing whatever song was in his heart at that moment. One Friday night he heard the familiar sound of Dean’s guitar but quickly recognized the melody. He dropped the hot dog he’d been adding ketchup to and ran to the sliding doors. When he stepped out onto the balcony Dean stood up with his guitar. He played the song through once before he started to sing.

It was beautiful, different than how he’d initially imagined it, better, and he leaned his arms on the railing as he stood mesmerized, listening to every note, and the smooth sound of Dean’s voice as he sang the words. This was what the song had been missing. Dean added a slightly bluesy tone, both with his voice and with the guitar, but it was everything he did to the song that made it better. Ordinarily, he didn’t let an artist change his music. It was his and they were getting the honor of singing a song he created but he’d been frustrated with that particular one. Hearing Dean that afternoon had given him the idea to let the man have at it, to see what he could do. If he’d butchered it, well, he didn’t have to actually let Dean perform it. But he hadn’t butchered anything. He’d been in the business long enough and created enough music to know when he had a hit on his hands. When the song came to an end people started cheering and clapping. Dean gave an exaggerated bow as he smiled happily. When he looked Cas’ way he crooked a finger at him, beckoning him over. Dean smiled wider and nodded. 

After cleaning up his hot dog mess in the kitchen he went to unlock the front door. He’d purchased a new electric blanket, unsure whether Dean wanted the one he’d lent him back after he’d been coughing and sneezing on it for days on end. It felt better to buy the man the same one so he had a clean one waiting for him for the fall and the arrival of the next flu season. He hurried to the bathroom to make sure he was at least moderately presentable but there was no chance to change out of his tacky board shorts before Dean was knocking.

He returned to the living room and took a steadying breath. He’d only gotten to see Dean in pictures and across a courtyard. This was their first in-person meeting and his stomach was buzzing with excitement. He grabbed the doorknob and turned it. 

Dean was standing on the other side of the door looking absolutely delicious. He stepped back to let him inside.

“It’s nice to finally meet you face to face. I’ve kept up on your videos and I’ve loved every new one you’ve put up. Hearing you play live has been wonderful too. You sounded amazing singing my song. I want to record you, but mostly I’m really excited to hear you play it when you’re not across the courtyard.” He was so excited to finally see Dean in person. God he was gorgeous! Dean smiled shyly.

“It’s nice to meet you too. You look good, healthy,” He commented.

“I have a slight cough but it’s manageable with these pills I bought. They’re like the pill form of cough syrup. None of that gross taste and they work just as well in my opinion. I truly am glad you were so thoughtful and brought me the soup and other stuff. It was delicious but I made it last over three meals because I couldn’t really cook for myself. When I could get to the kitchen again I was just making ramen or canned soup. Sometimes living alone sucks. I don’t have any family out here so I was on my own,” Cas pointed towards the kitchen. “Would you like something to drink? I have water, sweet tea, beer, or I made some strawberry hibiscus tea earlier, it’s in the fridge. It’s really good. I even tossed in some strawberries.”

“The tea already had strawberries in it?” Dean asked.

“It came like that, as strawberry hibiscus. I wanted cold tea, it’s too hot to drink it as anything other than cold, but I wanted it a little sweet so I added honey and fresh strawberries.” Cas explained.

“It sounds good, I’ll try that,” Dean followed him into the kitchen and watched as he took down two glasses and fetched a pitcher of a pink liquid from the fridge. He could see the strawberries floating in it.

“Here you go,” Cas handed him one of the glasses and once his own was filled he returned the pitcher to the fridge. “Come on, my studio is this way.”

“Did you want me to sing right now? I left my guitar at home,” Dean said as they stepped into the second bedroom turned recording studio. He was in awe as he looked at all of the equipment.

“No I was mostly just excited to show you my home studio. I’ll record you at my actual studio at some point. I know it sounds like bragging, and maybe it is, but I’m really just stating a point. My songs have launched people’s careers and I know that with your voice and your style this one will be a hit. Is that something you’d want? To record it and I get it on the radio?”

Dean stared at him, his green eyes wide with what looked to him like shock and excitement. He hoped he was reading him right.

“I could really be on the radio?”

“Absolutely. It will get on the radio, that’s a given,” Cas leaned a hand on his table and took a sip of his tea. “Did you want to do it?”

“That sounds like a loaded question,” Dean joked. Cas grinned and arched an eyebrow. He didn’t really know if Dean was into men or not. He was definitely into Dean though.

“Mmm, it could be,” He flirted. “But in this instance, I am strictly referring to music.”

Dean contemplated it. Did he want to be famous? Would he be? Did one song really do that? Would he get to sing more of them? He had no idea how any of this worked. Cas seemed so genuine and normal. It wasn’t what he’d expected for a grammy winner (yeah, he’d looked up Cas’ name and found that one out). He was humble and didn’t talk about awards. His focus was on his music, not on things like that. 

According to various news articles online he’d married his high school sweetheart but figured out a few years in that he was gay. They loved each other as friends though and lived in separate ends of the same house until a few years back when she met someone and they made the decision to get divorced. Lawyers took them to the cleaners and they’d both ended up losing the house and most of their money. He’d wanted her to have it but that hadn’t worked out. She was now remarried with a baby on the way and he was here, in the Concord Apartments, a two hundred unit building with some of the nicest people you could ever meet. 

Looking around he could see that Cas was not hurting financially, or at least it seemed that way. More than likely he’d barely managed to hang onto his equipment. He was making money off his music, both new and old which was how he was living comfortably. There was a new song on the radio that he’d written while in quarantine. The one he wanted Dean to sing would be the next one. It seemed like a once in a lifetime opportunity.

“Ok, yeah, but I know there are contracts that have to be written and agreed upon first,”

Cas nodded. “Absolutely. I’ll have my lawyers get started on that. You’ll want to get a lawyer too.”

“I already have one,” Dean said. “My brother’s girlfriend is mine.”

“Does she know contract law?”

“Yep. Contract is one of her main focuses.”

“Sweet!” Cas smiled at him and his blue eyes seemed to dance with excitement. “I am so stoked about this!”

Dean took a sip of his tea before smiling back. The guys at work already called him the singing mechanic. What would they say now? He dreaded the thought.

“This is exciting, I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“It’s an experience, but I think it’ll be a fun one,” Cas pointed at the door. “Let’s go sit in the living room. Getting to meet you face to face, I don’t want to only talk business. Let’s go sit and get to know each other. We’ve chatted via text but texting doesn’t tell you everything about a person.”

“Ok.” Dean followed him out to the living room where he motioned for Dean to sit on the couch. He sat down in the armchair across from him, that same happy smile still on his face.

“Sorry I look like shit, I’ve been lazy and this is comfortable,” Cas scratched at his jaw, the rasping of his hair under his fingernails made him self-conscious. He’d skipped shaving. He thought he looked presentable but Dean looked absolutely delicious. His hair was perfectly styled, his tee shirt was clean and his jeans...his jeans were the stuff of wet dreams. Dean’s legs were slightly bowed but it only made him sexier. He was aware of the position he’d put himself in. Having Dean sing something he created was a wonderful idea and he looked forward to it but he also wanted to ask him out. It would look really bad of him if he did. It would look like the only reason he wanted him to sing on his track was because he wanted to get in his pants. He’d painted himself into a corner.

“What’s wrong?” Dean leaned forward and leaned his elbows on his knees. He took a sip of his tea as he studied him. “Something’s bugging you.”

Cas sighed and repositioned himself so he was sitting cross-legged on the chair. “Nothing is wrong. Can I be honest with you?”

“Of course,” Dean gestured for him to go on. “I know there’s something on your mind.”

“I, um,” Cas shook his head to clear it. “I am really awkward about a lot of things.”

“Not your music though,” Dean smiled. “You’re very talented.”

“As are you,” Cas told him. “You’re insanely gifted. I don’t have half the voice you do, it’s why I write lyrics and create the music to go with it, but I don’t sing.”

“You sing on your YouTube channel,” Dean pointed out. “You’re pretty good.”

Cas leaned forward and smiled embarrassedly. “I have to autotune the hell out of my singing. You sound wonderful with simply a guitar in your hand. I always wanted to be in music. I’ve written songs for as long as I can remember. My mom framed my first song when I was four. I dictated it to her since I couldn’t read or write.”

Dean chuckled and arched an eyebrow curiously. “Tell me, what does a four year old write a song about?”

“My firetruck,” Cas laughed. “It was my favorite toy.”

“That’s adorable,” Dean laughed. “Thank you for the compliment. I’ve played guitar since I was a kid but I didn’t realize I could actually sing in key until my freshman year of high school. My friend convinced me to take drama class with her and I ended up in plays all four years. I sang for Fiddler on the Roof and realized hey, I could sing. After that I would sit with my guitar and sing all the time.”

“I bet you got laid a lot,” Cas said with a grin. Dean laughed and nodded.

“I did, actually.”

“Just girls?” He knew he wasn’t being subtle but subtly was not his strong suit. Dean took another sip of his tea before shaking his head.

“No, not just girls. Mostly it was hand jobs or blow jobs. At fifteen and sixteen no one knew how to have sex with someone that had the same parts as them. I tried once, it hurt, we stopped. I didn’t actually have sex with another man until I was in college, and he knew what he was doing so it didn’t hurt.”

“I knew I was gay around middle school. That’s about the time I actually started to show interest in people. That’s also when a kid’s hormones really start to ramp up. I had a crush on this girl Sarah. She was pretty, with long, blonde hair that fell in long curls down her back. She had big blue eyes and the prettiest smile but then I saw her boyfriend. My body reacted to him where it didn’t at all to Sarah. My dad’s homophobic though so I didn’t dare come out. When I got out of college I met Andrea. We went out on a couple of dates and I brought her home for Christmas that year. My parents loved her and my dad pushed me to marry her. I didn’t want to but…” He shrugged. “I gave in to the pressure and the following Christmas I proposed. I won’t say it was a miserable marriage, because it wasn’t, but I wasn’t happy. I was interested in men and she figured that out pretty early on. She’s my best friend though. She could have been angry, divorced me and taken me to the cleaners but she didn’t, she’s not that type of person. I made sure she had everything she could ever want and I kept to my end of the house while she kept to hers. I didn’t start dating until we’d formally separated and began the divorce proceedings.”

“How is your dad with all of this?” Dean asked.

“We’re not on speaking terms,” Cas admitted. “But I expected that.”

“You still haven’t told me what’s bugging you. You say you’re awkward, but you don’t seem it to me. A bit flirtatious, but not awkward,” Dean said. 

“I want you to do this song. It will further my career, and it will help yours, if you want to go into music. If not, that’s fine too. No pressure, ok? I won’t let my lawyers or my agent get near you,”

“You’re running circles around what you actually want to say,” Dean arched that eyebrow again. It made Cas squirm but not because he was embarrassed. He did it because it was starting to make him hard. 

“You’re gorgeous and I want to take you out on a date but I don’t want you to think that that’s why I want you to sing on my track. I don’t want you to feel obliged to go out with me, or to think that I expect sex or anything like that because I’m not like that, I just think you’re really attractive and nice and sweet and yeah, I want to take you out on a date, but I feel like I’ve backed myself into a corner. I don’t want you thinking that if you say no I’ll tell you to fuck off, because I won’t do that. I’m not a jerk, not like some people in this industry. Hell, like most of them. I pride myself on being a good person. If you didn’t want to, it’s ok, we can keep things professional but if you say yes, you would make me so happy. I really like you and I want to get to know you better.” He pulled his lower lip between his teeth and pulled at it while he waited to see what Dean would say.

“Wow, did you even take a breath through that?” Dean laughed. “If we can keep work and dating separate I’d love to go out with you. With all your flirting over texts I expected you would ask me out. I figured if you didn’t, I would do it. I like you too. How about we go out after the contract is written up, reviewed, and signed? Then you can come over and I will cook for you.”

Cas was absolutely ecstatic over the thought of an intimate dinner at Dean’s place.

“Maybe we could eat on the balcony? I mean, that’s how we met, right?”

Dean smiled and nodded. “Absolutely. I’ll talk to Eileen tomorrow and let her know now so she’s prepared when you lawyer contacts her. In the meantime I’ll work on planning dinner.”

“I am looking forward to it,” Cas said honestly. “I feel lucky since I can’t possibly be making a good first impression, I look like a bum and haven’t shaved in over forty-eight hours, and I was about to have hot dogs for dinner. You stepped out on your balcony looking like you walked right out of my deepest fantasies.”

Dean laughed with surprise. “Dude, I showered and dressed as nice as I could before I grabbed my guitar and went out there. I wanted to make a good impression when I sang your song for the first time. I was happy when you told me to come over. I was lounging around in sweats with my hair sticking out in every direction before I decided I was ready to sing it, but thank you for the compliment, you’re stroking my ego here.”

Cas set his glass on the side table and put his feet on the floor so he could mirror Dean’s position. He wanted to be flirty and maybe a bit dirty, to say something like “that wasn’t the only thing he wanted to stroke” but he didn’t want to come on too strong. Or too desperate for that matter.

“I’ll call Hector this afternoon and get him started on the contract. I’m aiming for dinner...next week, sound good?”

“If Eileen and I can agree, then I will get to working on making a dinner to impress,”

“I’d be happy with it being romantic,” Cas shrugged shyly. “I’ve never had anyone be romantic.”

That was sad as far as Dean was concerned.

“Oh don’t worry, it will be romantic,” He assured him. “And I’m a pretty good cook. All you have to do is show up.”

He smiled happily at Dean. This was going to be a fantastic collaboration and their date would be wonderful. He was happier than he’d been in years.

“I can’t wait.”


End file.
